


Hope Thaws the Numbness

by Blackwolf2019



Series: The Pack survives, the Pack fights [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s06e09 Battle of the Bastards, Quote: The lone wolf dies but the pack survives (ASoIaF), The Grand Northern Conspiracy, The North Remembers (ASoIaF), more book than show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackwolf2019/pseuds/Blackwolf2019
Summary: Ramsay Bolton as Warden of the North and Sansa sits alone in numbness. No feeling of cold or warmth. Simply nothing.The North Remembers though.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Maester Wolkan & Sansa Stark, Ramsay Bolton & Sansa Stark, Rickon Stark & Sansa Stark
Series: The Pack survives, the Pack fights [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990747
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Hope Thaws the Numbness

**Author's Note:**

> For any that were reading benjen's story, sorry but I have no time at all to continue with it. I still have ideas and if time comes to me will repost and rebuild on the sequel.
> 
> For now I have time for one shots in a series but every now and then when time allows.
> 
> Things that aren't answered in this will come in different subsequent one shots.

It was hard to really tell the time for Sansa in a Winterfell ruled by House Bolton. Even if it seemed like the eve of winter was upon the North as she watched the snow fall from her childhood room. Every day merged into one as the grey skies and the snows continued to fall heavily around Winterfell. Darkness become all the more permanent except for the dim lights of the fires that gave no warmth. Every day merged into one from the ever-increasing torture that Ramsay inflicted upon her now that he’d taken a knife to his Father and declared himself the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Torture made all the worse for trying to escape which seemed to make her husband’s wormy lips smile all the more.

Her attempt to escape with Theon had failed as miserably as Stannis and his army of sell swords and Southerners at the Gates of Winterfell. They’d got separated in the snow and neither had been able to find the other, leaving her to run as far as she could on her own until running into the Lady Brienne and Podrick Payne. A small moment of comfort that had turned horrific as she watched them get cut down and mauled by Roose’s men and Ramsay’s dogs. They had fought bravely but neither had been enough to counter the number of men that had been sent to fetch her nor the dogs that had savaged them as they drew laboured breaths at the end.

The Key to the North was far too important to be left to a handful of guards after all.

Sansa had no tears left to cry for her potential saviours’ deaths as she watched them fall, getting dragged back to the family that had murdered hers. She had no tears left to cry for herself at the knowledge that there would be no more chances to escape from the nightmare Baelish had bound her into forever. Too numbed by the fact that her husband wielded a part of her Father’s Ice which he used to taunt and cut her every night.

The numbness made her wonder why Wolkan still fed her Moon Tea despite the futility of it all. Why he only called her Lady Bolton when around her husband. He must see the numbness in her. Must know that he would die so slowly if Ramsay found out that he was depriving him of an undisputed heir that would secure him the North all the more. Must know that nobody would be coming for her. Whatever was left of Theon had vanished to the snows. Robb was dead. Arya was dead. Bran and Rickon were thought to be dead by everyone. Jon at the Wall. _And might die if Ramsay has his way._ Sansa thought despairingly at the only sibling she could truly know lived.

The only thing she could think of was that Wolkan couldn’t bare another Ramsay in the world. She could see his fear of him and his pity for her. He simply wanted to give mercy to the North in the future. A time where there might not be another Ramsay Bolton or that whatever bastard her husband spawns on another when he thinks her barren will be much less likely to take the North.

It was hopeful foolishness in Sansa’s eyes. A fool’s errand. _A goal that will not end this torture._ Sansa thought numbly, dreading her husband’s inevitable return.

*

The scared whispers of the servants outside were rare in Winterfell. The servants knew better than to even whisper the atrocious deeds which Ramsay commits for fear of him preying upon them if he overheard. Only a truly horrible deed could make the servants mutter and whisper. Or the prospect of terrible deeds to come as she heard the faintest whisper that Ramsay was in a blind rage. _Such a contrast to his emotionless father._ Sansa thought coldly as the door opened to Maester Wolkan with a supposed vial to increase her fertility now that Ramsay had sent ravens to all the Northern houses to offer fealty. _To see that he has forced a babe upon their liege’s last child and staked his claim as Warden of the North._

The Maester looked much calmer than he usually did as he came in. Sansa could always see the fear in his eyes and the nerves frayed across his body. It was still there but much less prominent. _Maybe he has finally decided to take Milk of the poppy to make his life all the more bearable._ Sansa wondered as he put his equipment on the small table for her before greeting her with one eye at the door.

“Lady Sansa.” He said curtly.

“Maester Wolkan, is there something wrong?” Sansa asked emptily.

Wolkan nodded. “Ramsay has received a raven from Deepwood Motte.”

 _The only keep in the North still held by the Iron Born._ Sansa remembered idly.

“A taunt from the Iron Born would not cause him to rage.” Sansa said simply. _He would look forward to doing what he did to Theon again and those at Moat Cailin he had told me of._

“It was a missive from your half-brother Jon. He’s taken the Motte back for House Glover.”

The fire in her room flickered as Wolkan said the words. _A trick by Ramsay._

“My brother is at the Wall as the Lord Commander of the Watch.” Sansa replied coolly.

_I am no fool. Not anymore._

Wolkan smiled. It was the first time she had seen the Old Maester smile. It was small and weak but a smile nonetheless.

 _An honest smile._ A very faint voice muttered in her head before being snuffed out by every cruel voice that had played with her since King’s Landing.

“The words were from the Motte and your brother. Not many on the missive but enough to tell Ramsay that your brother is marching towards Winterfell.”

With an army at his back didn’t need to be said.

Her brother wouldn’t have been able to take the Motte without one. _An army Ramsay could destroy._ Sansa thought, repressing the thoughts of Jon with an army behind him.

“The North will call Jon an oath breaker for this.” Sansa said simply and looking away from the Maester for a moment to the darkness outside. The North took the heads of oath breakers and deserters.

 _“But how could he have an army if that were the case?”_ A voice whispered as she pulled herself back to the Maester.

Wolkan had turned his gaze towards the vial for a moment.

“I have prepared a mixture that will numb the pain tonight. Ramsay will be angry with you when he arrives.”

“I feel numb already.” Sansa replied.

Wolkan shook his head and sighed as he grabbed the door handle. “You hide the flinches well but I see them just like I saw the flicker in your eyes when I said that your brother is coming for you.”

“I thought one brother would come for me once. They took his head off and replaced it with his wolf.” Sansa stated coolly.

He hesitated for a long moment before speaking again.

‘Please drink the vial for when he comes tonight Lady Stark.’

With that the Old Maester left in a hurry, leaving Sansa alone with the knowledge of what was coming for her tonight.

 _And who will be here in a moon’s turn to end him._ A hopeful voice whispered.

Sansa shook her head and gripped the vial tightly before drinking enough of the vial to make her numb, feeling the brief warmth of the fire in her room fade away again.

*

“An army of wildlings, deserters and a few traitorous houses so small that his victory would be likened to a boot stepping on an ant.”

“A massacre.”

That was how Ramsay had described her brother’s army every night when he took her so horribly as Jon came closer and closer to Winterfell. It was probably true. Deserting the Watch would not have won Jon much support in the North. Nor would the fact that his name was Snow and not Stark.

Though Ramsay’s army was smaller than expected in a way. The Bolton army was five thousand five hundred strong from what Wolkan had said but the Northern houses had not answered the call of the banners that Ramsay had expected. Lord Bolton only had Harrion Karstark and his men to support him. Even then it was substantially less than the full strength of Karhold with only five hundred men actually with Harrion. _Men that had sided with Bolton during the Red Wedding._ Not even House Ryswell and House Dustin had answered the call despite the ties which Ramsay’s father had held. Ties which ended with Roose’s Death and had most likely been strained to failing long before it if rumours from the Bolton men were true that Ramsay had murdered the trueborn Domeric Bolton.

It seemed the North was showing indifference to both her brother and her husband. That they remembered the crimes of both her brother and husband. _Even if my brother’s only crime is thinking he can save me._

The North was going to simply watch and see who would live. _They’ll kneel if it is Bolton out of fear. Jon they might give a quick death as thanks for giving them the North and me as a bride once more._ Sansa thought darkly as she stood in the courtyard, waiting for her husband’s return as commanded whilst he made a parley with Jon. He had forced her into a wormy and vile kiss before he left the courtyard with one hundred men to guard him alongside Lord Karstark.

He’d toyed with bringing her along so she could see how pathetic the men beside her brother would be before deciding to be all the crueller and have Jon only see her upon his defeat.

 _“To see my wife, fulfil her duties before I take my time passing the sentence.”_ Ramsay had whispered before leaving Winterfell his retinue.

 _He’s pathetic and afraid. One hundred men for a parley._ The voice whispered harshly in her head before voices of Cersei, Baelish and Ramsay echoed above it. Reminding her that Ramsay would show her that there was nothing more than the wildling savages at Jon’s side. _Wildlings ready to fight for you._ The voice responded with a bite that could only come from a Northman as she stood waiting for her husband’s return, snow falling in her hair.

Snow she couldn’t feel at all.

Sansa had been glad in that moment that Wolkan had given her that vial which made her number than she already felt normally.

She could still feel herself numb now as Ramsay returned. But not numb enough to notice that there was a conflict in his eyes. The dirty Ice eyes were fighting between joy and annoyance. Something she hadn’t much seen since the raven from the Motte had come. It turned back to joy as he got off his horse and came to her. Quite unlike Karstark’s eyes which just looked worried as he dismounted after her husband.

 _A trick of my mind._ Sansa thought.

 _It isn’t_. The voice replied more loudly than before. The Northern accent bleeding all over the two words.

Ramsay’s vile voice spoke with joy as he greeted her with a dirty kiss to the hand, drowning the voice from her head. “It seems that I will be bringing another gift to you once the battle is won tomorrow.”

Sansa knew she had to answer him. “And what is that husband?”

Ramsay’s wormy mouth twisted all the more as he smiled. “Why your youngest brother alongside your bastard. It seems the two have found each other.”

Sansa felt a pit in her stomach. _The Pack survives._ The Northern voice stated proudly as Ramsay nodded at his guards before coming in for his own whisper.

_“Their wolves’ pelts and their skin will keep as warm when winter comes.”_

Sansa ignored the taunt as the guards took her away from the courtyard. Rickon was with Jon. Sansa couldn’t shake the words that had been said about Rickon being with Jon as she was taken back to her quarters to await Ramsay. It terrified her that her youngest brother was here with Jon. _The pack survives._ The Northern Voice repeated.

She was terrified that they were outside these walls and so close to Ramsay’s wrath.

 _So close to home._ The Northern Voice said louder.

Loud enough to shake Sansa out of her head and turn her attention to the door. She could hear a whisper from the guards outside her door before Ramsay would inevitably arrive to commence his torment. It was faint but Sansa could hear the worry in the guard’s voice as one spoke.

“I swear it’s almost like seeing a ghost. He’s Ned Stark come again.”

 _Ned Stark died though._ Baelish stated.

 _By your hand most likely._ Sansa whispered back.

“With two wolves, one bigger than Robb Stark’s.” the other guard said even more fearfully.

 _Robb and Grey wind both were skinned at the red wedding._ Ramsay’s voice whispered gleefully.

 _And the North Remembers!_ The Northern Voice boomed triumphantly in response.

Sansa drank all of the vial that night so she couldn’t feel anything.

*

Her husband was right about it being a massacre.

He’d been very wrong about who would be massacred though as she watched from the Walls with very terrified guards beside her. For the first time Sansa had smiled at the gift her husband had given by allowing her to watch from the walls.

She’d been given the gift of seeing her brother turn House Bolton’s army turn to broken and bloodied bones in the dirt.

Sansa hadn’t expected it at all as she saw her brother’s army in view from the wood on the moor. Ramsay had been right that it had been wildlings fighting with Jon. They had looked like such a small force in comparison to the army of House Bolton and Sansa had felt the dread that her brothers would both fall for being foolish enough to try and save her. Sansa was glad to be wrong though as Jon lured her husband in with that ploy. She’d been glad to see his army show its full strength as giants emerged from the wood with the armies of the North coming from all angles.

Sansa could still remember all the banners of the North from her lessons as a girl even when she had begged to learn more of the Southern ones. Her brothers had amassed them all.

Umber, Manderly, Wull, Flints, Liddle, Glover, Ryswell, Dustin, Mormont, Talhart, Hornwood, Forrester and Cerwyn. All there in their glory. She could even see a Karstark banner alongside something she had never seen before as they turned Bolton’s army to nothing and sent what was no doubt her husband riding back to hide in his castle. _A Stark castle not yours._ Sansa thought as she felt two of the guards with her take her down from the battlements whilst the rest prepared for the storm that was the Northern army reformed and reunited.

She could feel their grips were looser than before. Not enough to free herself but enough to show they were afraid.

“My brothers will be kind if you don’t take me to Ramsay.” Sansa said simply, hoping that they would see sense.

One of the guards shook his head. “Winterfell can hold for years. I will not be flayed for such a foolish attempt.”

“You should fear the wolves at your door.” Sansa replied.

The guard went to strike her but stayed his hand, instead gripping her hard and bringing her to the courtyard where Ramsay stood alone and thoroughly annoyed. _No Karstark beside him or army behind him._ Sansa thought as she was brought in front of him.

His annoyance turned to an erratic smile as he looked at her, his hand firmly gripping the pommel of the half of Ice that was in the North. It didn’t much hide the shake in his hand.

“Your brothers will starve at those gates. His armies will starve and abandon him.”

 _The giants will tear the gate down so that won’t happen._ Sansa thought happily.

She didn’t hide her smirk unfortunately as Ramsay struck her.

It was the first time she had felt pain from his touch in a long time.

“When they see what I do to you from the Walls, they will surrender to make it stop.”

His promise was answered by the sound of the gate being opened from the inside.

Sansa looked in shock as she saw Bolton guards opening it and dropping their weapons in surrender. She could see it on the walls too of what few that hadn’t been hit with arrows dropping every bow and sword down. Ramsay snarled, unsheathing the Valyrian Steel Sword and slashing it at the unsuspecting guards that were still holding her tightly. He took over that as he grabbed her tightly, looking frantically for somewhere to go. “Winter!!!” Something screeched from above. The voice was answered by the thundering of hooves as horses rode through the gates. Horses and riders led by giant white Direwolf with blood red eyes and bared teeth covered in blood. _Ghost._

Sansa would have wept for the first time in years if Ramsay didn’t put the sword to the throat. The sounds all seemed to leave in an instant as Ramsay did that.

Though it didn’t perturb the blood drenched rider in black at the head of the horsemen as he dismounted and joined Ghost.

“Pack!” A voice screeched again.

 _Jon._ Sansa knew.

Ramsay spat as he smiled at her brother.

“The bastard of Winterfell enters the gates to surrender at last!!! Were you so eager to see me enjoy my bride?”

Jon didn’t react as he slowly walked forward calmly. His hand told a different story as the the hand gripped a Wolf pommel tightly. _What should be on Ice._ Sansa thought as she glanced at the Lion and Flayed man which Ramsay had added to the pommel.

Ramsay didn’t see the rage in her brother’s eyes. “Nothing to say bastard?!!! No offer for single combat to win the North like before?!!!!”

Jon unsheathed his sword. It was shining with blood. He continued to walk forward slowly.

Ramsay pulled her backwards to get away. The sword so dangerously close to her neck. _If you kill me Jon can kill you._

Ramsay seemed to read her thoughts. “If you don’t surrender, I will just kill her! And with half of your Father’s sword no less!!”

Jon stopped dead in his tracks and slowly revealing grey eyes shining through blood and dirt that she hadn’t seen since father died.

Sansa could feel Ramsay’s wormy smile grow as he saw her brother stop. She looked at Jon mouth two words as his eyes glossed over for a second. _To Ghost._

Then she heard Ramsay scream as a crow flew down and clawed at his face.

“North!!!!””

“North!!!!”

“North!!!!”

Sansa didn’t hesitate to run towards Ghost as the sword pulled her away from her and Ramsay’s grip loosen. Jon didn’t hesitate to run either as her charged forward and sent his sword through Ramsay’s waving sword hand before kicking him to the ground.

“Jon.”

He stopped immediately, what anger that had erupted from his face fading as he stood up and ran to hug her, Bolton Banners falling around them and being replaced by the Stark Direwolf, warmth slowly flooding into her as she faded into the hug.

*

Waking up to a warm chamber that wasn’t her childhood one turned prison felt dreamlike. It spoke volumes for Sansa that her dreams had fallen so far from that of being a future Queen and married to a handsome prince to simply waking up in a bed not laden by living nightmares. It felt almost unreal, giving a sense of dread that it was simply a dream that had come to make waking up all the crueller. That the bed would turn into her prison and that her brother hadn’t stormed through the gates finally come to get her back. Sansa didn’t think her mind that cruel though.

 _The real world had been crueller._ Sansa thought as she slowly moved up from the bed to see the large room she hadn’t been in for so long.

 _Mother’s chambers._ Sansa realised with tears as she took a quick glance around, seeing two empty chairs by her bed before her eyes landed on the giant that was Ghost sitting by the door as a silent sentinel for her.

His white fur was much cleaner than it had been as when he had entered Winterfell. It looked exactly like freshly fallen snow. He also looked even larger now that he was truly up close to her even as he was lying comfortably on a rug by the door. One could easily see how he would be a terror on the battlefield. A wolf that seemed to merge with the snow itself.

 _Though he looks far less fearsome now._ Sansa noted as Ghost turned to her and gave what Sansa could only see as a smile with his Weirwood eyes flashing with what Sansa believed to be joy. It made her long for Lady as the Weirwood Red Eyes seeing the wolf slowly wag his tail before turning to the door and opening it calmly with his nose, leaving Sansa alone to her Lady Mother’s chambers that had been occupied by Lady Walda Frey until her death by Ramsay.

Sansa could see well enough that the room was much barer than it had been when her mother occupied the room. No sewing needles or dresses to be made on the tables. Nor were there any of the trinkets which belonged to her mother. Her presence seemed to have vanished from the room much like her small wooden sept at Winterfell. Sansa would have wept if it weren’t for the seemingly untouched Stark banners that had adorned the walls. Reminding her that this this was still lady Stark’s room. Sansa couldn’t help but stare at the banners from before seeing Ghost returned with the image of father standing and staring at her from the doorway.

It was uncanny how much Jon resembled their father now. That had always been the case though with Jon being the only one to inherit the Stark colouring besides Arya but the resemblance had never been quite to this extent as she stared at her brother for the first proper time. Grey eyes, a long face that his dark brown beard couldn’t hide, broad shoulders and a stance that gave an air of command Winterfell hadn’t felt since Robb had left it most likely. He screamed of Ned Stark like the banners on the walls.

He only needed to be dressed in the greys and whites of House Stark and the picture would be complete. _That can be sorted though._ Sansa thought as she stared nervously at her brother.

“Thank you for putting me in Mother’s chambers.” Sansa said kindly, breaking the two’s clearly nervous stares at the other.

 _Neither of us had been close as children._ Sansa remembered sadly as Jon responded solemnly.

“I remember Old Nan say that Lady Stark’s chambers were the warmest chambers in Winterfell. It felt right to move you here.”

Sansa smiled nervously. “I always loved coming in here to get warm whenever the summer snows fell. I always remember sitting by the dresser playing with mother’s trinkets as she braided and brushed my hair”

Jon smiled sadly as he listened.

 _He has probably never been in these chambers before._ Sansa realised, feeling a tightness catch her throat, cutting herself off and turning away from him to the Stark banners to steady herself as she sat up further in bed.

Jon’s eyes followed hers to the Stark banners. “I had them put up and the room somewhat prepared for when you woke as soon as we took the castle. More will be done to make them fitting for you as soon as you feel ready.”

Sansa smiled genuinely as the tears slowly went down her face. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that so soon.”

Jon shook his head as he turned back to her, his smile becoming all the sadder. Still standing at the door. Still apprehensive to get closer even though the chairs told her he had been here with Rickon most likely.

She hoped.

“You can sit beside me you know.” Sansa said quietly as she sat up properly despite the sharp pains across her body.

Jon gave Ghost a look before slowly making his way to sit in the chair with Ghost once again leaving the chambers.

Sansa didn’t hesitate to take his hand as soon he sat in the chair.

Despite the paleness to it she could feel the warmth. Just like Winterfell. _Home._

“The missive Ramsay sent announcing he had wed me only had went out to the North by the time you had taken Deepwood Motte. How did you know I was in Winterfell with the Boltons?” Sansa asked, still unsure what to truly say.

Jon’s sad smile dropped away, turning his face grim, a hint of the rage she had seen on him in the courtyard etching into his features. It showed just many scars etched his face. Much more than Father had. He’d been battered just like her over the years.

“He sent a letter to the watch after beating Stannis, demanding I come to Winterfell to see everything that was his. Winterfell and Lady Sansa are mine, come and see.”

Sansa could feel the anger emanate off her brother’s voice, the Northern accent bleeding out all the more over his words.

“He was goading you. Ramsay always likes to do that.” Sansa said, gripping his hand tighter.

Jon nodded, his free hand tentatively moving over his chest for a brief moment before continuing. “Theon had come not long after as I was preparing to march for the Motte and had confirmed it.”

“I had thought he had died in the snows when we got separated.” Sansa said idly, still unsure how to feel about Theon Greyjoy for all that he had done.

“It was a feat for him to get as far as he did in that state.” Jon replied, not a hint of emotion in his voice at Theon Greyjoy.

_They never were close as children either._

“He’s dead now.” Sansa stated as she looked at her brother in his grimness. The face of Father when speaking of the dead.

“Aye, he wanted to die after telling me of you. I did it like Father would have in front of the Lords I had rallied to both Rickon’s and your side.” Jon confirmed, his face solemn and not revelling at the death of the man who had betrayed their family.

_A merciful death after a torture by Ramsay._

“Did Rickon witness it?” Sansa asked hesitantly.

_He’ll have only turned nine._

“He did aye, took it better than any of us before him had seeing it the first time I think.” Jon replied with both sadness and pride in his eyes.

Sansa felt more tears fall down her face. “I’m glad the two of you found each other again.”

Jon smiled. “Seeing him arrive with Lord Umber and his uncles at the Wall was the happiest I had been in a long time. He looked like Robb as a boy.”

“The lone wolf dies.” Sansa started.

“But the pack survives.” Jon finished.

“Can you forgive me for everything I said as a child?” Sansa asked her brother as sob finally broke through and her arms brought her brother into a hug.

The sad smile got all the sadder on his face as she said the words.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Jon replied, his own arms wrapping around her.

“There is.” Sansa sobbed into her brother’s shoulder.

Sansa could feel his shoulders sag and his head shake. “I didn’t ride south when you, Arya and Father were all trapped in King’s Landing. I didn’t fight beside Robb or help Bran and Rickon from losing Winterfell. I left you all for vows.”

 _Neither of you have anything to apologise for._ The Northern voice in her head stated bluntly.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Sansa repeated.

“I won’t let this happen again.” Jon vowed.

“Me neither.” Sansa vowed, knowing there was work to be done as she reunited with her pack.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it! The next one will be Sansa as Baelish arrives tae Winterfell. He didnae get tae "save the day" this time around  
> Not all will be Sansa's perspective. Mix of pack members and maybe some others.  
> So in this, it is more book but with tv elements. Discussions about what the two have been up tae, including Jon's death are off screen so to speak.  
> Went with Rickon living, feel he is important in the books and is in this, even though there won't be a pov of him until maybe the end depending on how the one shots go.
> 
> You will also learn some things that weren't discussed next chapter so don't worry on anything being forgotten.


End file.
